


Los Santos Royals

by HopethePrincess



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: F/M, Gen, Romance, Self Insert, Self-Insert, Selfship, Selfshipping, aka two BPDs fall in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-14 08:57:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11204697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopethePrincess/pseuds/HopethePrincess
Summary: The princess of Los Santos crime meets Sandy Shores' trash king.A story of a self insert's indulgent adventures in Los Santos.





	1. Chapter 1

Trevor’s eyes squinted in the sunlight, as he tried to make out what exactly it was he was seeing in front of him. Down the street, right in front of his trailer, his idiot friend was standing beside a very, very classy looking vehicle, leaning in and seemingly charmed by whatever conversation he was having with the driver. Trevor was stumbling slightly, just a touch hung over from the previous evening’s escapades. And now that he finally arrived home, this is the sight he was greeted with. Who the fuck did this person think they were, wandering around, talking to _his_ friends, in _his_ town?

“Wade!” he barked out, causing the poor boy to startle and stumble slightly, sputtering desperately for words.

“I-I-I was just gettin’ back on inside, Trevor!” Wade’s stuttering crooning voice cried out, the boy lifting his hands in an apologetic and desperate gesture. Trevor tried to glance through the windshield of the car, but the glare of the sun only made him sneer and return his gaze to Wade.

“Like fuck you were, who the _fuck_ are you talking to?” Trevor lifted his finger to point at the mystery driver, his eyes set on Wade, who was mere steps away from him now. “Who the fuck is this, schmoozing with my little shithead Wade?”

Stepping up beside the car where the boy was once standing, Trevor leaned in, placing his hands on the window sill of the door. To his surprise, a round, bright, charming face peered up at him from the driver’s seat. Her eyes peeked past her dark sunglasses and through her thick, curled hair as she glanced up at him.

“Sorry,” she chirped, moving her gaze from Trevor’s face to the dashboard, hiding those eyes from him. “I didn’t realize he was yours.”

Trevor’s expression softened, as it tended to when he was dealing with women.

“Oh, well,” he moved to instead rest his elbow against the window sill, his other hand moving onto his hip. “I guess if I’m the fool who let ‘im out without his collar, how were you to know?”

She laughed a little, while Wade mumbled something about not being a dog, which Trevor replied to with a hard kick that connected with Wade’s shin. As the younger man fell back, Trevor continued his little chat, his curiosity piqued.

“What brings such a classy lady like yourself to the beautiful Sandy Shores?” he asked her, this time his voice much smoother than it had been. He offered her a weird, crooked smile, the closest to a genuine smile as he could give with his scarred and bruised face.

“I’m lost as hell,” she admitted, lifting her gaze up to meet his again. She rested her elbow against the car’s door, her hand cupping her cheek as she leaned towards him just a little. “I was trying to ask your pet there for directions out of this hellhole.”

“I ain’t no dog!!” Wade interjected from the back, only to be ignored immediately by Trevor, who was a touch offended.

“I mean this sure ain’t no sunny Vespucci Beach, but--” he started. She was quick to interrupt him.

“Yeah, it’s not, so I wanna get the fuck out of here.”

Trevor did not take kindly to being interrupted, especially by some prissy princess. He didn’t even actually care _that_ much about Sandy Shores’ reputation. The mere fact that this girl was being the slightest bit rude to him was setting him off. Who did she think she was? Did she not know who she was talking to? Well… obviously not, she was clearly not from around here, but, still. The nerve.

“Well, good luck, kiddo!” Trevor called, lifting his hands and stepping back from the vehicle. “You’re on your own, sugartits.”

To his surprise, she just laughed, leaning a bit further out the car to keep her eyes on his face. She made no effort to get upset with him, though she made some strange expression mixing disapproval and amusement.

“Sugartits, huh…” she giggled, shaking her head a little. “Okay, well, I’ll just get back to talking to your buddy there.”

“Uh, noooo,” Trevor responded, that shit-eating grin on his lips, “Waaade and I have real important shit to do today, so, you can be on your way, kiddo.”

“Um, uh, act’ally, Trevor,” Wade stammered, fearfully trying to step around the volatile man, “uh, Hope here was gon’ take me to the city so’s I can get ice cream, so uh!”

Trevor’s eyes met Wade’s, which sent Wade into a fit of apologies and even less composed stammering.

_“What.”_

“Well she, she said she could take me, so long as I was givin’ her directions!!”

**_“What.”_ **

“I jus’ want some ice cream, Trevor, tha’s all!” Wade was prancing nervously to the other side of the car, separating himself from Trevor with a comfortable distance. All the while she was laughing, turning her head to and fro, eyeing each expression.

“Maybe I should come to Sandy Shores more often. This is amazing.” she settled herself against her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, a smirk on her red lips.

 _“Shut up,_ cupcake!” Trevor barked at her, before turning his attention back to his buddy. “What the _fuck_ is your obsession with ice cream! You’re gonna go with this random fuckin’ lady all the fucking way to Los Santos just to get a scoop of frozen tit milk??”

Wade shrugged, lifting his hands upward, his voice ever shaky and uncertain.

“You jus’ never take me an’, an’ I was plannin’ on askin’ Ron to take me today anyway, so’s I figured, uh!” He was trying so hard to keep his composure. “I figured, if, I don’t bug Ron, he c’n hang out with you today, and uh! I’ll go, with this nice lady…”

“Fuck you,” was Trevor’s only response, jabbing a finger towards Wade before he turned to storm away. Wade was left more speechless than bewildered. It wasn’t uncommon for Trevor to completely lose his shit over minor inconveniences in his day. He especially hated when Wade or Ron or anyone, really, would make plans without letting him know, and that included going for ice cream in a half hour drive with some random lady who found herself lost and unable to find her way home. Wade’s lips turned to a frown as he watched Trevor go, eyeing with disappointment the middle finger that his friend was offering him as he left. He gave a sigh and allowed himself into the car.

“Jesus,” she muttered, a finger and thumb lowering her sunglasses as she watched the older man storm off to his trailer. “Is he always like that?”

“Yeah, uhh…” Wade mumbled back, buckling himself in before he glanced at the girl with another little shrug. “I dunno. Trevor’s real fun sometimes..! He jus’ gets real mad, too, sometimes.”

She hummed in thought, watching him go until the door opened up and slammed shut.

“What a dick,” she laughed, starting up the car.

“So’s uh! Your name’s Hope you said?” Wade quickly inquired, obviously not wanting to linger too long on the subject of Trevor, hoping not to scare her out of getting him to his beloved ice cream.

“Yeah, it’s Hope.” The car pulled back onto the road slowly, riding smooth, despite the relatively shitty roads Sandy Shores had to offer. “I dunno how the fuck I got so far from the city, I must have taken a wrong turn or something…” She took a moment to switch on the radio, filling the car with Los Santos’ pop station.

“Yeah! You seem like a real trendy kinda girl, I’s figurin’ you weren’t from ‘round here,” he said to her, glancing at her quickly, before returning his gaze to the desert rolling by.

“Yeah I don’t really hang out with, uh… well people like Trevor,” she replied with a laugh. Wade couldn’t help but to chuckle a little, too. He had to admit that he didn’t really know why he rolled with Trevor at all anymore. Maybe it was out of respect, seeing as how Trevor practically raised him more than his parents ever did. “I dunno, though. Maybe I’ll come back. You seem pretty nice, giving a stranger the time of day like that.”

“Aw shucks, I’s just bein’ a good neighbor,” he crooned, shrugging and sporting a dorky little smile on his face.

“Well!” she chirped, “good neighbors get good ice cream! Now where do I turn here, left?”

“Right.”

“Right?”

“Naw, uh, I mean, left is right, like yeah go left!!”

She laughed again, finally making a left after wiggling the car frantically back and forth.

“I have a feeling you and I are gonna get along Wade,” she said with a giggle, “maybe we’ll hang out more.”

“Oh uh!! Maybe!”

“We can swap numbers if you want, we can chill together sometime. I’m usually free, so, you can hit me up whenever.”

“Oh, yeah!!” Wade replied, excitement in his voice. His expression fell quickly after, though. “Hmmm… I’d haveta get rid-a Trevor every time, though…” he mumbled, “he don’t like it none when I gots other friends…”

“He sounds like me, to be honest,” she chuckled.

“Naw, you seem real nice! Trevor’s real mean and… he just wouldn’t be no fun about it, that’s all. He don’t want me hangin’ out without him.”

She gave him a little smile, lowering her head a bit to peer past her sunglasses.

“Well… You said he’s ‘real fun’ sometimes anyway, right?” She gave him another giggle, turning back towards the road once she caught sight of Wade’s horrified expression, fearing that she may be suggesting that they invite Trevor along after all. “Okay, okay, you can ditch him. I’m most likely never going to make the effort to come all the way to Sandy Shores, so I probably won’t see him ever again, anyway.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically Trevor hates me lmao

There were a few things he needed from Floyd’s apartment, before he set off for his next excursion. Trevor was making his way there at a worrying speed, paying no mind to any speed limits or traffic laws. It was honestly not even a very important journey he needed to make. He just wanted to head to each Ammu-Nation around the area to heckle them into partnering with the glorious and amazing Trevor Philips Industries, was all. But he was feeling quite “up” today. There was excitement drumming hard in his chest and his mind was whirling about almost as fast as his truck was tearing down the street. 

He half hoped perhaps Wade was there, wondering if maybe he could force him into joining in on the journey. He hadn’t seen Wade in a few weeks, and as much as Trevor would never admit to it, it worried him not to see his friends for so long.

Screeching to a halt in the driveway, the street went silent as he switched his car off and slammed his door shut. Such a brief silence was interrupted, however, when Trevor heard the muffled sound of Wade’s laughter upstairs in the apartment. A smirk slowly formed on his face, pleased to know at least someone was home.

“HelloooOOOoooo!” he called out to announce his presence, so that everyone would be perfectly prepared to pay full attention to him the moment he walked in. Trevor had a tendency to command all eyes be on him, and this was no exception, even for such a simple little visit.

He made large strides up the steps, gradually becoming more aware of the sounds he was hearing inside the apartment. A whole lot of laughing and talking. Wade’s obnoxious laugh, and Floyd’s stammering. Within moments, Trevor was slamming the door open and making a show of himself entering the room.

“Make way, boys, Uncle T is home again!”

The room fell silent. There was a lingering sense of horror and tension as soon as Trevor’s words left his lips. Wade and Floyd shared nervous glances between one another, terror on their expressions, before they both glanced forward to look at their messy, dirty friend walking in. 

Trevor almost had no idea what was so damn shocking, until his eyes fell to the couch. There, he slowly took in the sight of her. She was turning back to look at him, her tightly coiled curls bouncing gently as they fell to rest behind her shoulder. She met his fiery eyes and offered him a nervous smile on her pink lips.

“Oh, um... Hey, Trevor, right?”

Who the  _ fuck  _ did she think she was? Who the  **fuck** did she think she was!?

“What the  _ fuck  _ is wrong with you, bringing this fucking person into my space!” he immediately barked at Wade, who had just hastily gotten up to try to calm him down.

“This- this ain’t even your home,” Floyd stammered, his tone meek but attempting to be stern. It was true, this wasn’t by any means Trevor’s home, and he was very seldom welcome in the place. 

“Shut up, Floyd!” Trevor screamed, causing the nervous man to back off. This girl, Hope, he thought? Was not welcome in the place either. Or, so he wanted desperately to believe. Was this why he hadn’t seen Wade in so long? “Who the  _ fuck  _ does this person think she is!” he continued, his voice rising with every word. She shot upright, turning to face him fully now, a fire rivaling his own burning in her expression.

“Hey, calm the fuck down!” she snarled, placing her hands on her hips, “you don’t own the place, okay?”

Her readiness to argue only fired him up all the more. 

“Oh, and I’m sure  _ you  _ own the place? Are you the elusive Debra I’ve heard about?” 

“Trevor, Debra’s not even-” Floyd began, only to be interrupted by Wade.

“Naw, Trevor, this! This is Hope, ‘member?” the boy stuttered, approaching Trevor and trying to impede on the distance between the angry man and this new friend of his, “‘member when she took me to get ice cream?”

“You’ve been hanging out with this woman this whole time?” Trevor asked, his voice suddenly calm and smooth, his palms turned upright as he shrugged softly. “Wade, Wade… you have not… contacted me, for two and a half weeks.” 

Wade lowered his gaze, this sudden shift in tone readying him for some sort of outburst. Sure enough, Trevor’s voice began to very slowly rise as he continued to speak, causing Wade to backpedal and turn away.

“And I just now find out… you’re in Los Santos, sippin’ champagne and bangin’ it out with the girl who bought you ice cre-”

“Uh, we’re not ‘banging it out’ or anything like that,” she interrupted, arms crossed and brows furrowed in frustration. “Wade and I are just friends? It’s pretty fucking  _ rude  _ of you to assume that about our relationship, shithead.”

Hope and Trevor entered into a long silence, staring one another down as tension boiled between them. Wade, meanwhile, seemed astonished at the very idea of Trevor’s accusation. He’d only really been friends with Hope so far. In all honesty he hadn’t even thought of trying to bed the girl. She just seemed to have a penchant for a little chaos now and then, and at the end of the day almost always either bought him food or sat with him and his cousin to have a few high-end drinks in the apartment. To his surprise, hanging out with Hope was like hanging out with a classier, cleaner, prettier Trevor who knew how to formulate her words much better. All the while, Floyd was attempting to make himself scarce by fleeing to the bathroom, trying desperately to escape the situation, hoping he wouldn’t have to talk to Trevor at all during this exchange. He was, however, inevitably called into the situation. 

“Floyd,” Trevor uttered, before glancing over to find the man cowering his way down the hall, which only make Trevor’s voice raise back to a yell. “Tell this  _ girl!!!  _ To leave!”

“I-I- Trevor- she’s a real nice girl!” Floyd cried, stopping dead in his tracks the instant he was roped into this conversation. “What makes you so upset with her? I mean you ain’t even spoke more than a few words to her, b’sides yellin’ at her, from what I hear!!”

To be completely honest, Trevor wasn’t even sure how to answer that, even to himself. This girl had done nothing to him, really, besides interrupt him a few times, and spent “secret time” with Wade, despite him knowing full well that Wade spent time with a lot of other people. He wanted to believe it was just because he found her annoying in the few short moments they’ve actually spoken. But truthfully, he had no idea. This was a common occurrence to him and it never made any god damn sense - random strangers talking to his friends? Obviously an enemy was to be made. 

Trevor’s eyes rested upon Hope’s once again, eyeing her over as she placed her hands on her hips once more, offering him a scoff before rolling her eyes and looking away. There was something in Trevor that almost felt sorry for how he’d been acting. But he could not show that. He absolutely could not show anyone that.

Meanwhile Hope was frustrated beyond measure with this person. She wanted, truly, to take Wade’s word for it, and believe that he must have been fun sometimes. She even hoped she might even get to spend time with him, with how Wade described the fun times the two of them would have together. But these first and second impressions had really placed a strain on her trust in that sentiment. She offered Trevor a sideways glance, her arms crossing once again, and they stared for just a while longer. 

“Y’know what?” she said eventually, leaning down to grab her purse, tugging the strap over her shoulder as she rose upright. “I’m going to leave. It’s been fun, guys.”

“Aw, Hope, you don’t gots to..!” Wade whined, trying to reach out to her. She dodged his hands, stepping past him as she made her way to the door. She offered Trevor one last look of contempt for ruining her evening with her friends. Trevor didn’t even make the effort to follow her with his eyes. He just lowered his gaze to the floor, feeling some kind of awful and angry all at once.

“No, it’s fine,” she mumbled, “hey I’ll text you when I’m free again, alright? We’ll go shoot shit up, cause some trouble, all that sweet jazz, okay?”

These words came as a surprise to Trevor. Such a statement coming from a girl who seemed like she belonged on the cover of a celebrity magazine was definitely boggling to him. He turned himself slightly to watch Hope disappear beyond the wall on her way to the door, realizing it was much too late to ask what the  _ hell  _ that meant.

“O-okay, just, yeah..!” Wade called, his response met swiftly with the sound of the door swinging open and slamming shut. He rubbed at the back of his head, his other hand resting on his hip as he mumbled to himself.

This was not how he wanted the night to end. And this was not how he wanted Trevor to meet Hope again. He tried to give Trevor a sad little smile, but Trevor seemed disoriented, almost, by the tail end of this experience.

“Trevor, I’m sorry, I uh, didn’t tell you nothin’ for a few weeks,” Wade began, genuinely trying to attempt an apology. 

His words didn’t get much further. Trevor seemed dejected, suddenly, and in truth, Trevor didn’t even know why. Before Wade could continue, Trevor simply turned and took steps towards the room he claimed as his bedroom, leaving Wade and Floyd in silence as he decided not to go out to Ammu-Nation after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Hope was trying her best not to snap at Trevor for their last encounter, for Wade’s sake. To be honest, she had so little interest in Trevor at this point that she barely accepted the idea of letting the guy into her car as they made their way through Los Santos to find somewhere to grab some food. But yet here she was, trying not to let Wade down, and trying not to lose her shit over Trevor laying across the back seat of her car without a seat belt, putting his muddy shoes all over the back door and window.

“Hey… If you're, y’know, gonna be a nuisance can you at least… Like… not get my car dirty?” she mumbled, peering at him in the rear view mirror.

“I'm just trying to get comfortable, here,” Trevor replied, his casual tone obnoxious and  _ so _ passive aggressive. “Wade, buddy, don't you want your best friend, good pal, and buddy Trevor to have a good time while we’re here?”

“I mean, Trevor, you’re… yeah I do! But!” Wade said slowly, peering back at him, “you're kinda bein’ a li’l, uhh, disrespectful to miss Mora…”

“God do you  _ have  _ to call her that?” Trevor growled as he slumped further into his position, folding his arms over his chest. “You sound like some kindergartner addressing his teacher.”

“Well I’s, I’s just trying to be polite…”

Trevor's voice pitched upward, mimicking Wade's drawling accent and a child all at once. “Daw, waw, waw, I’s just bein’ polite! Miss Mora, c’n we,  _ duhhhhhh, _ get ice cweam? Miss Mora, c’n I ride in yur fancy caaar?”

Hope had to laugh at least a little at Trevor's rude interpretation of what little kid Wade had to sound like. 

“Aw, Wade, you sound like such a cute kindergartner,” she said with a giggle. Trevor smirked and reached forward to grab onto Wade's ears, shaking his head back and forth. Ignoring Wade's little whines for him to stop, Trevor's grin grew larger as he continued mocking him.

“Miss Moooora, uhhhhhhhh, c’n I, duhhh, compete in da street race? I promise I won't duh, wreck Trevor's truck up!”

Hope let out a much more obvious laugh now, turning the radio down a little to accommodate the loudness of Trevor’s mimicry. Wade flailed, trying to slap Trevor’s hands off his ears. 

“D’aw, Trevor, you ain't never gonna let me live that down, are ya..!” he whined, obviously guilty over some past event Trevor must have been referencing. This caused a small, loud, pretty amusing argument between the two, about which Hope had to laugh even more. She had to admit now, she could see what was so endearing about Trevor. It just only seemed to show when he wasn’t being  _ fucking annoying.  _

“Weazel News!” came a reporter's voice, interrupting the music that had been turned down low, “we're bringing you a live report as we watch- with great amusement- a shooting taking place in Los Santos’ higher class neighborhood, Morningwood.” Trevor groaned loudly as soon as he recognized that the song was over, speaking over the newscaster with disgust.

“God, I am getting tired of that pop garbage. Can we listen to something el-”

“Wait,” Hope interrupted, leaning a bit closer to the speakers, “I need to hear this…”

“Seriously? Seriously, who even  _ cares  _ if another rich neighborhood gets shot up,” Trevor growled, “it's old news, nobody does anything  _ amazing  _ in this city, it's the same shi-” 

He was interrupted swiftly by Hope’s hissing voice.

“Shut the fuck up!!” She turned the radio up louder as the announcer continued, every person in the car falling silent.

“--would turn out that it is, in fact, a gang fight taking place, rather than just a run-of-the-mill shooting! It would seem a street gang is picking a fight with a much larger operation. We can only hope they at least kill a decent number of each other by the time the police arrive.”

Hope had pulled the car into an alley, staring in horror at the radio as the reporter continued.

“The LSPD advise that all citizens stay clear of the whole block and the surrounding area as they attempt to sort out both gangs.”

“Why are we listening to this,” Trevor groaned, leaning himself forward between the two front seats, giving Hope a hard stare. She was rubbing her temple, sighing and swearing to herself. 

“Those fucking idiots…” she uttered. Wade and Trevor exchanged glances, but could barely react before she forced the car into reverse and slammed on the gas, peeling out of the alley at a sickening speed. In no time she was whipping the car into a wide U-turn and shooting down the street.

“What the fuck!!!” Trevor shouted, righting himself after being tossed around the back seat. “Hey, whoooa, whoa, whoawhoawhoa, what in the  _ fuck _ is going on!”

“Shut the fuck up and buckle your god damn seatbelt before I whip this car around and launch you out the  _ fucking window!!!”  _ she screamed at him, turning to offer him a glare that he swore could have killed a lesser man. She was grasping the shoulder of the passenger seat, her firm, deathly grip on it and sudden change in volume sending Wade into a low-key panic. 

“Hey- hey uh- Hope- is!! What's actually happenin’ though!!” Wade asked in desperation, hoping not to further anger her with his need for clarity. She was facing forward now, her driving at such a speed miraculously skillful. 

“Sorry, guys,” she muttered, “change of plans. I've got business to take care of.”

“What?” Trevor was leaning in closer between the two front seats. “What kind of business?” He was certainly suspicious. He wasn't stupid. She didn't seem to take kindly to the news they'd just received. He offered a mocking grin, fully between the two front seats now, drawing ever closer to her head. “Don’t tell me that’s  _ yoooour  _ little gang getting shot to shit in fancy shmancy Morningwood?”

When she turned to give him a grin back, his lips parted. He wasn’t serious when he asked that. He had been chalking it up to perhaps she had been worried the punks were fighting in her yard or some shit. But the way she smirked at him made him question just what this girl’s story must have been. 

“It’s more of an organized syndicate, but sure,” were the words she decided to use to answer his question, following it up with a hearty laugh and slamming her foot to the gas pedal again. Trevor slapped against the back seat with a yelp, as Wade closed his eyes and grimaced, trying not to allow his body to simply die from all the stress. Her laughter made Trevor… unsure. What was she playing at here? He supposed he wouldn’t believe it ‘til he saw it. There was no way this prissy, overdressed, silver spoon-sucking, Gucci-wearing, celebrity-looking  _ princess  _ was in charge of any crime in Los Santos.


End file.
